Lobetanz
Opera in three acts; music by Ludwig Thuille; text by Otto Julius Bierbaum. Produced: Carlsruhe, February 6, 1898.
Characters
| Lobetanz | Tenor |
| The Princess | Mezzo-Soprano |
| The King | Bass |
| The Forester, the executioner, the judge | Speaking parts |
| A Travelling Student | Tenor |
Act I. This play takes place somewhere and somewhen but begins in a blooming garden in spring. And the most fragrant flowers in the garden are the lovely girls that play in it. Take care, Lobetanz; take care! Now that you have leaped over the wall into the garden, still take care! You are a travelling singer, your clothes are tattered; but you are a magnificent fellow and sing as only a bird can sing or a fellow who knows nothing about the illness of the Princess. What is the matter with her then? She no longer laughs as she once did, her cheeks are pale, she no longer sings but sighs. “Alas!” Oh, the maidens know what is the matter with her but no one asks the maidens. The poet-laureate today at the festival of the Early Rose Day will announce what is the matter with the child of the King. And the King is coming, the Princess and the people. And the poets proudly strut in and make known their wisdom. But that does not help. Now the sound of a violin is heard. How the Princess listens and now the player comes before her and fiddles and sings and the maid revives. Roses bloom on her cheeks; her eyes shine in looking at the violinist who is singing of the morning in May when they kissed each other, innocently dear, and played “bridegroom and bride.” You must flee, Lobetanz, flee; that is magic with which you are subduing the child of the King.
Act II. Spring has awakened your heart, you happy singer, and has brought to life what was asleep deep within you. Now you may dream of what will be. And see, she comes to you, the sick Princess, to be restored to health by you. And she sits there by you in the branch of a linden tree. But alas, alas! The King and his hunting train are suddenly there and all things have an end.
Act III. In a dungeon sits the bird once so gay. For “dead, dead, dead must he be and so slip with hurrahs into the infernal abode.” And they lead you to the gallows and tell you your sentence. And the King and the people, the envious singers and the Princess sick unto death on her bier are all there. Now choose your last present, you poor gallows bird. So let me once more sing. And, “see, Oh see, how the delicate face is covered with a rosy glow.” He is singing her back to life, the lovely Princess, until finally she flees to his arms: “Thou art mine!” Now leave the gallows, there is a wedding today. “A great magician is Lobetanz, let the couple only look, the gallows shine with luck and lustre; spring has done wonders.”